


Stockings and Lace

by Serinah



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, PWP, Slight s/d, Sorry Not Sorry, double-ended doldo, sappy dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27451549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: The prompt fill for:Joe and/or Nicky in sexy lingerie, playing with toys and each other. Bonus for double-ended dildos. Double bonus for 69ing!I got two out of three, and that ain't bad, right? ;)FereldenTurmip, you are awesome! <3
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109
Collections: All Kinkmeme and More: a very casual prompt n fill exchange!





	Stockings and Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ferelden_Turnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferelden_Turnip/gifts).



> Awesome betas:  
> mrsimoshen (Sin)  
> Avanie  
> THANK YOU!!
> 
> And thank you for an amazing prompt, Turnip, I hope you'll enjoy it!

Nicky is looking at himself in the mirror. He looks ridiculous. The girl in the shop assured him that white lace would look good on him. And yet… he's done everything the internet told him: the shaving, skin moisturizer, the manicure, the light but features-softening make-up.

He still sees a strong and ungainly Italian dude with a big nose and sunken eyes.  _ Cazzo! _ He'll wash it off and just take Joe to that restaurant—

"I'm ho-ome!"

Startled, Nicky knocks the make-up kit off the counter with a mighty clang and in a panic, he locks the door.

"Nicky? You in the bathroom? Hurry up,  _ caro mio _ , we're going out!" he says and his voice sounds closer, near the bathroom. "I've got us a toy for later!" he cooes invitingly, and if Nicky wasn't having a crisis, he'd be turned on.

"Why are you back so soon?"

"Honey?" Joe calls from the kitchen area but it sounds as if he’s coming back towards the bathroom. "Sweetheart, what's the matter? You sound strained."

A-and here he is… on the other side of the door. Great.

"Hayati?"

And now he's concerned. Perfect. Nicky closes his eyes to escape the atrocity staring at him from the mirror.

"I'm fine," Nicky replies loudly, somewhat angrily. "Just let me wash it off…”

Thank fuck, he's left the clothes—

"No-no-no! Don't wash it off! I know you! I bet you got me something amazing as a surprise and now you're panicking! Don't wash it off, Nico, don't you  _ dare! _ I want to see!"

Fuck.

"It's nothing," Nicky replies, resigned. "I look like a clown," he mutters.

"What was that?" Joe raps his knuckles on the door. "Open up,  _ caro mio _ , is it make-up?" He sounds a little bit out of breath, and then there’s a quiet thump as if Joe has bumped his head against the door. Now his whispering voice sounds even closer as he continues, "Did you get panties too? Something nice and lacey?"

God, he’ll be so disappointed! Joe appreciates beauty and Nicky... He looks at himself in the mirror again: the very light blue camisole with lace hugging his wide chest, the matching panties barely containing his cock, still soft in its almost see-through nest; the garter belt with neat tiny blue flowers on top and the high skin-tone stockings around his freakishly strong, masculine thighs which end in silvery blue high-heeled shoes. _ Cazzo, _ they looked  _ huge _ .

“Nicky?”

Nicky doesn't reply.

“Nicky, you know I’ve got the key to this door, right?” He paused leaving the implied threat unspoken and Nicky almost snorted. “You’ll feel better if you let me in, I promise!”

Nicky knows it’s true, he can recognize the pattern: every time Nicky fucks up, Joe will make it feel alright. He always does.

Nicky nods to himself, turns away from the mirror, leans his back to the counter and reaches his arm out to unlock the door. He’s still looking at his ugly feet when the door opens. He hears a gasp.

His head jerks up only to be greeted with Joe’s beautiful eyes, large and round, his lax mouth open in surprise.

“Nicky,” he whispers breathlessly.

It’s his sex-voice. Nicky blinks. It’s not his ‘it’s okay, I love you anyway’ voice, it’s honest-to-god ‘I’m gonna worship and eat you up’ voice.

Nicky’s cock finally begins to take an interest.

They hold eye contact and Nicky feels his heart-beat pick up speed, his breathing quicken, and at the same time, a mighty calm starts spreading in his chest.

He licks his lips and Joe’s eyes flick to his mouth.

“Go into the bedroom and strip,” Nicky instructs, his voice gone soft and low and breathy.

Not his own, but not like a stranger’s either. He’s him but he’s also… different.

Joe’s expression ripples into pure want, vulnerability, and supplication. He doesn’t say anything, doesn't nod, just turns around and disappears from the doorway. Taking a slow, deep breath, Nicky finally let's himself know that without a sliver of doubt that Joe is his. Utterly and devotedly, and he will do whatever Nicky wants.

Nicky grins, and follows.

His movements have turned fluid and with his hips swaying, stepping in the heels is not at all as awkward as it felt when he was just trying them out earlier. His skin is sensitized, the fabric stimulates and gratifies, but it’s not enough. He needs that one more point of contact to share the electric quality of the bliss coursing through him, so, slowly, Nicky raises his arm and lets his fingers sensually trail the walls he passes.

He turns the corner and sees Joe dropping the last piece of fabric to the floor, scrambling onto the bed, naked. His eyes are burning with arousal and he's already on his knees, ready to worship. He's watching Nicky as if he’s the sun and the moon, his whole universe. Yes, Joe has said that all and more. Nicky's heart soars in tenderness and the words slip out without permission.

“Good boy,” Nicky says, but he's not so gone yet that he's not aware of it being for him, not Joe.

Still, Joe swallows heavily because he’s learned by now what it means to Nicky. So every time Joe chooses to be obedient and silent, this is an act of love. Nicky's lips lift in a smile, and Joe, his expression happy, open, and anticipatory, smiles back.

“Scoot back, lean on the pillows,” Nicky orders quietly.

Joe complies and puts his hands behind his head and Nicky feels electrified.

“Don't move,” Nicky commands, his chest expanding in pride.

This is a gift that Joe is doing — Nicky hasn’t earned this trust, the obedience.

To reward Joe's cooperation, Nicky comes to sit on the bed, next to Joe's legs, almost touching. He puts his large palm on Joe’s cheek and leans in. Eyes still locked, they get closer and closer. An inch from Joe’s mouth Nicky stops.

“My love,” he says, and nothing else.

He's not eloquent like Joe is, and he's grateful that there's no need for more. Joe's expression goes soft and loving - he knows.

Nicky brushes Joe’s lips with his and Joe waits, his eyes closed, lips parted and his breath halted.

This is because of me, Nicky thinks, feeling drunk. For me. The heady satisfaction that fills him is almost overwhelming and he greedily drinks it from Joe's lips like the possessive jerk he is.

Joe shudders and lets out a soft noise that’s half a sigh, half moan. Nicky pulls back and Joe tries to follow him, his eyes still closed. Humming contentedly, Nicky presses his palm on Joe’s chest to push him back.

"Hayati?" Joe's word is a question and a plea, and Nicky can clearly see Joe's hands straining to remain where they are — yet another act of love.

“Patience,” he teases, trying to will himself to be merciful, but he can't just yet.

Joe exhales, opens his eyes that are still a little hazy. “Of course,  _ caro mio, _ ” he replies, and Nicky tenderly touches his lips with his fingertips.

Joe's eyes flutter, his mouth snaps shut, and, suppressing a grin, Nicky fluidly lifts himself up to straddle his lover. Joe lets out a small 'oof' and they both smile giddily.

Sighing contentedly, Nicky settles on his thighs, puts his hands on Joe's pecs, trails them over the muscled rib cage, a hip, a shoulder, neck and stomach.

Joe devours him with his eyes, quivers under Nicky's touch but still doesn't move. His breathing is measured but purposefully so, and his cock is hard, twitching every time Nicky gets close to it.

"You can touch now," Nicky allows.

Joe startles and his first movement is a jerk as if his fingers were locked together and he had to yank them apart. Joe puts his hands on Nicky's thighs, caresses the silky surface of his stockings admiringly; he touches the lace tops, slides his hands up and down, then slips them under the camisole.

Nicky shivers and for a little while, they just explore. With one hand Joe finds Nicky’s nipple and leans in to close his lips around it over the fabric. He sucks hard. Nicky grons, slides his fingers into Joe's hair and tugs at them, first gently, then tightly. Joe whimpers and bites in retaliation.

Nicky jerks, moans and shivers. Joe moves on to the other nipple, his hands trail the edge of Nicky's panties, and slip to the back. Joe bunches the fabric into his fist which pulls at Nicky’s front.

Nicky rocks in Joe’s lap, and with a groan throws his head back.

"So beautiful," Joe whispers. "My heart, my love, my world…"

The words are driving Nicky as wild as the touch, but he doesn't want to succumb yet. He has plans.

“Stop,” he demands hoarsely but firmly and he can see Joe's pupils dilate. “Put your hands behind your head,” he adds and Joe’s breath hitches.

Joe complies, even though his hands trail off Nicky’s body with reluctance and Nicky grins.

He pinches Joe’s nipples and leans down to bite on Joe’s collar bone.

“Shit, Nicky, what—”

“Shush!” Suddenly feeling impatient, Nicky puts his finger on Joe’s lips. “You said something about a toy earlier? Where is it?”

“The chest of drawers,” Joe replies and nods towards the bureau, where a dark plastic bag sits.

“Don’t move.” Nicky gets up from the bed and goes to take a look. He opens the bag and gets a long burgundy box out. Nicky peeks in and feels goosebumps rise on his skin. “A double ended dildo, huh?” he says wonderingly.

He takes the long flexible worm-like toy out of the box, flashes Joe a grin and sees Joe lying there, almost unnaturally still.

"Do you like it?" Joe asks softly, "Can't wait to see how it looks inside you..." he trails off at Nicky's expression.

"You talk too much," Nicky says breathlessly. He walks back to the bed. "Should I gag you?"

In his excitement, Joe seems to have lost his speech, so in a way, Nicky’s goal is accomplished.

“Maybe later,” he decides.

He puts the toy back into the box and the box on the bed. They are still looking into each other’s eyes as Nicky slowly lowers his panties. The edge of the camisole now brushes his erect cock and his breath stutters. For a moment, he contemplates stuffing them into Joe’s mouth, but in the end, just drops them on the floor.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Joe whispers.

It should sound corny and overdone and naive, but this is Joe. His gaze is so sincere and his voice honest and Nicky wants to weep with tenderness.

He scrambles on the bed, and leans in for a passionate kiss because actions are his language of love. This is all he has to give. All that he is.

He pulls back.

Joe is panting, leaning up to catch him and Nicky smirks. He gets out the lube from the bedside table, snicks it open and reaches out for Joe’s wrist. He squirts a dollop on his palm, then on his own. He nods to Joe and gets up to his knees widening his stance suggestively.

“Oh, Nicky,” Joe says, grinning and reaches to get his fingers between Nicky’s ass cheeks.

Nicky doesn’t reply, just moves Joe’s leg to get access to his hole and starts rubbing at it. Opening each other up is quick work, even when Joe is moaning distractingly and Nicky is only holding still through the sheer force of will.

“Grab the headboard,” Nicky directs when they’re ready, and after rubbing some lube on the toy, starts feeding it into Joe.

“Hold still,” he says, and, “Stop squirming.”

Joe keeps babbling about how good it feels and how masterful Nicky looks.

Nicky  _ feels _ masterful. He also feels hot, impatient, and for a moment he even regrets using the toy in the first place.

“Should’ve just stuffed you myself,” he pants, putting the other end to his own opening.

“Oh, Santa Maria, yes!” Joe exclaims, lifting his hips as if it’s him being filled now. “Oh, that looks so good, Nicky! I wish I…”

He trails off as Nicky starts to move himself on the flexible dildo that is now connecting the two of them.

They are both moving, but the toy is long and it’s not working.

“Hold still,” Nicky tells Joe and tries glaring but Joes is too far gone.

“Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, my heart would you just…? Please baby—”

“Hold. Still.”

Nicky stops moving himself but that only eggs Joe on, and he looks so enthused, turned on and so beautiful that Nicky just stops and watches him. Joe's cock is hard, his hole full, and he’s holding onto the headboard, moving and moaning quietly, his eyes closed. His speed is increasing as his enjoyment peaks higher and higher, and when he seems to be about to fall over, Nicky slams his palms down on Joe’s hips, stopping him.

“Enough, my love," he says firmly. "Keep still."

Joe doesn't protest. His whole being shudders in arousal, his muscles obviously straining to comply. He is panting with desire, but he just says, "Of course, my love, it's your turn," and stares at how Nicky moves.

The feeling is indescribable. He is sitting on the toy, holding the shaft, using Joe as a base, and moves up and down. His other hand is teasing Joe with light touches. He plays with his nipples, brushes past his cock. Joe uses the headboard to arch up, quivering with the strain to keep still and babbling. He keeps telling Nicky how fantastic he is, how beautiful. The way the fabric clings to Nicky is now a nuisance, but also a restriction, the stockings are slippery on the bed, and he wishes he had time to remove the one remaining shoe (the other had fallen off at some point). Joe is still spilling poetry from his lips and Nicky speeds up.

“You’re wrong,” he says between pants. “You’re wrong, my love.” He pushes Joe’s hips back down and holds him there, his thumbs perilously close to the rock-hard cock straining for touch. “You are the amazing one,  _ caro mio, _ I wish I could have your way with words...  _ Ti amo, _ Joe,  _ ti amo _ …”

He takes both of their cocks into his hand now and strokes.

“Santa Maria Madre di Dio!” Joe exclaims and comes only after the third tug.

He looks magnificent, with his skin flushed, glistening with sweat, his chest rising and falling with his panting, the tension released, and now how he slumps on the bed, moaning quietly in aftershocks. Mercifully, Nicky lets go of Joe’s dick and squeezing hard, harder than he ever does Joe, strokes himself to completion.

The pleasure explodes in his groin and behind his eyelids simultaneously, and for a moment, the world fractures, then falls away.

When Nicky comes back to himself, he’s lying on top of Joe, his lover's arms hugging him, and the dildo still miraculously inside him. Unable to find words, Nicky sighs and plants a kiss on the first part of Joe he can comfortably reach which turns out to be his shoulder. Joe murmurs his words of love, but Nicky can’t parse the meaning, he just feels cherished and taken care of. He leans up to find Joe’s lips in a ‘thank you’ and ‘you too’.


End file.
